


One Last Adventure

by Scarlet_Gryphon



Category: Up (2009)
Genre: Gen, Sad, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-08
Updated: 2013-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-24 03:19:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/629777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlet_Gryphon/pseuds/Scarlet_Gryphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure" --Albus Dumbledore, "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" (J.K. Rowling).</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Last Adventure

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [It's Been an Adventure, Mr. Fredricksen](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/15451) by Kristal Babich. 



The day of the funeral dawns bright and clear and warm. It’s a marked difference from when Ellie died, but somehow, Russell thinks it fits. It reminds him of South America, actually, though definitely cooler. Dug, now gray around the muzzle, stays by his side throughout the ceremony, a sad look in his dark eyes. Russell reaches down and scratches at his ears, but he might as well be scratching at thin air for all Dug reacts.

Once the ceremony’s over, everyone heads out to the cemetery. Russell’s one of the pallbearers, and he bears the weight of the coffin with a solemn air and a strength he thought he’d never possess when he was eight years old. A decade of lessons, life, and laughter saw that change, as did the unlikely friendship between a young boy and an old recluse. Dug pads alongside him, acting as an honor guard, his tail held low and sad.

There are balloons of all shapes and sizes when they reach the gravesite next to Ellie’s, and Russell can’t help but to laugh to himself, even at this most solemn of moments. The coffin is slowly lowered into the ground, and when everyone is gone, Russell lingers behind, taking a deep blue feather out of an inner pocket and lets it drift slowly down onto the rosewood below. He looks up at the gravestone, a small smile curving his lips at the inscription there: _Carl Owen Fredricksen. Beloved Husband. May your next adventure be even more exciting than your first._

Russell looks over at the balloons and spots one that’s almost come loose from its mooring. He wanders over and unties it the rest of the way. The sun shines on it, sending rose-hued shadows across his face. With a fond smile, Russell releases the balloon, sending it upwards.

“It’s been an adventure, Mr. Fredricksen,” he murmurs, watching until the balloon passes out of sight, going far into the deep blue sky.


End file.
